Inside My Mind
by zman123
Summary: I sometimes wonder to myself, what exactly is my own mind composed off if Riley Anderson's consists of those tiny little people who care so deeply for her, always trying to help her make the most of every day of her life so she can be both happy and cautious at the same time. I very much doubt that my own little people can compare with saints like that...
1. A lost utopia

...A lost utopia...

A very long time ago in an age long forgotten to the denizens of my mind, the control centre and its surroundings looked very different.

A kind and gentle young girl known as "Joy" was the well intentioned and fair leader over the emotions and sought to better the life of her human host in any way she knew how while making sure none of the other emotions felt left out even if their opinions didn't always align with hers.

The building where the emotions lived was always clean and tidy, and beautifully decorated withcolourful mosaic wallpaper and carpeting.

Every emotion worked for the betterment of their host with a crisp grin on their faces as they went about their day, even fear and anger could not help but let the smile tugging on their lips be seen.

It was an age of celebration, of moonlit feasting and singing and parties. Every day was another party of rejoicing the joy of being alive and being a part of a happy young boy's guardian within his young and inquisitive mind.

"Fear" spent his days keeping the young boy safe from hazards so that he need never shed a tear over a cut or scrape. Fear knew that the boy's worst fear of all was the idea that one day he would be thrown into a wooden box and put into the ground and his entire job revolved around feeding the boy the smallest amount of fear needed possible so that the boy need never experience his greatest fear.

At least for as long as he was able, for the then kind hearted fear could not help but realize that the wooden box under the ground was a place no one could avoid forever.

Fear also knew the boys second greatest fear revolved around exams. The boy suffered a yet undocumented and untreated disease known as "Examaphobia" which the doctors in the world were too lazy to try and diagnose let alone try to cure. And yet if the boy couldn't pass the exams he could not help but shiver at the thought of, the boy's third incurable fear would come into place transforming the usually happy boy into a cowering husk unable to do more than shiver and cry.

The fear that no one would love him as he was. The fear that no one would want his broken parts.

Anger spent his days keeping the boy's temper in check, despite how much he would have loved to simply mash the buttons in the control panel and have the boy throw a massive temper tantrum every day. It was all because he loved the boy so much that he instead responsibly spent his days finding the least hurtful and least harmful ways of helping the boy release any anger he had as well as minimizing the number of things that could cause the boy to be angry in the first place by sometimes carefully triggering a small amount of anger to prevent much larger bouts of anger later on.

Like fear, anger knew that the emotion he embodied was not one that was good for the boy even in small doses, but that sometimes small dosses were necessary to minimize the negativity of the mind regardless. Anger knew that the boy's greatest anger was directed at two things that could sadly never be completely solved. The boy was angry with the hard fact that when every person was created, they were created with an invisible clock in their body that was set to start ticking down from the second when they were even conceived in their mother's womb before they were even born.

And when the clock ticked to zero, their eyes closed and they could no longer do or feel anything else. Lucky people had this happen when they were hopefully too old to move or do much anyway, in the luckiest cases being maybe over the age of one hundred years or so and having been around long enough to see both their grand and great grand child. Unlucky people had it happen when they were yet helpless embryos unable to even scream as the invisible black hooded man with the scythe came at them with his bony hand outstretched.

But lucky or unlucky, it happened to everyone sooner or later and the boy was angry that the creator of the world if one existed, was unkind enough to enforce such a cruel time constraint on the creations he was supposed to love and care about.

The boy was also angry at the thought of exam after exam, and how even after several thousand years of getting more and more advanced in technology that mankind was still not clever or careful enough to recognize Examaphobia (The fear of exams) as a serious medical condition. And that all because he couldn't do well in something so difficult and frightening, his closest relatives would stop loving him over that. And yet the boy only claimed those were his two biggest angers. His true biggest anger was far worse than either of those.

The boy was angry at himself that he wasn't like other people. People who took exams in stride and walked through them like walking through the park on a sunny day beneath the crystal blue skies licking a popsicle and listening to the smash hit song number one on the charts. Angry that the chances of himself becoming anything remotely better than a smelly pile of rags on the sidewalk with a cup of coins was less likely than the chances the average lottery player had of winning the jackpot even with just one ticket. And angry that he would not be able to achieve the four things every man knew it was their duty to achieve from the day they were born.

To get rich, to be famous and then to be in a position of great power before finishing a lifetime of glory by tying the knot to the cheers of their family, their friends and eventually their little kid who would hail them no less than civillians would hail superman and batman. The boy knew that he'd not be able to achieve any single one of them and his anger at himself knew no bounds, even back then. But anger made sure the boy never released his anger at others. Any anger the boy felt was redirected internally and only externally when the boy was in a private place where no one could hear or see the boy's words of rage. Anger also made sure that the boy never injured himself through his fits of rage.

Then there came "disgust"

Back then, disgust was a much more mild tempered and tolerant man who knew the value of restraint and altruism. He was also clever enough to realize that no amount of disgust however small could be good for the boy. The boy's disgust at the idea of having a limited amount of time to live rather than an unlimited amount. The boy's disgust at having to take difficult exams which made it difficult for him to enjoy his life or develop himself as a person. The boy's disgust at himself, and how he never seemed good enough to anyone. Not even himself.

As the boy often sang to himself when he was on his own.

"I am no stranger to the dark"

"Run away, they say, cause we don't want your broken parts."

"I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars"

"Hide away, they say, no one will love you as you are"

Disgust did his utmost to convince the boy that this disgust on himself was unjustified. After all, beauty was in the eyes of the beholder and it was what you thought of yourself that mattered more than what other people thought of you. He helped the boy to unload some of his disgust at the shallow others who unfairly discriminated against him. He tried to make the boy see that not everyone was the same and that some people did indeed love the boy as he was.

The efforts of "disgust" were not perfect but the boy appreciated them anyway and they helped keep the boy clear of too much self loathing.

The kind efforts of the emotions made the boy's mind something of a paradise despite the sad world outside it. A sanctuary of sorts for the boy to turn to when every star was falling from the sky, every last heart around him was breaking and every ship was going down including the one with him on it. The boy wasn't the happiest boy, but he was nontheless very quick to laugh and easy to please while difficult to anger. Riley's emotions would have had a field day with those of the little boy. The two Joy's could easily have become besties and Riley could have become enamored by the little boy'soptimistic views on life and ability to make his companions laugh in even their bleakest moments.

It was all bearable, until he came.


	2. The founding of sadtopia

...The Founding of Sadtopia...

A very evil man kept his evil intentions hidden in the little boy's mind. A sinister man whose dark blue skin and frightening red eyes almost perfectly complimented his short and spiky snow white hair to make him like the lead of a 18 rated horror film. Dimitri Piotr Vladistok or simply "Sadness" was a sour grape that no amount of sugar, spice or anything nice could even begin to sweeten.

His crinkled and wrinkly skin the finishing touch of a face designed shock and intimidate. He wore a black war officer uniform complete with a surgical mask over his mouth to further reinforce his unique sense of fashion among the boy's other emotions. And like all the other emotions, he wore a Ushanka over his head even during the hottest days. The one thing he and the other emotions could agree with, was that they should wear headgear to match the traditions and nationalism of their host. The similarites between him and the motley gang he was supposed to be a part of, ended there.

Sadness, hated Joy. The way she sought to better the mind world for both her fellow emotions and her host, was a thing that could not be bourne by sadness. Every smile he saw caused him to gnash his teeth and every grin caused his face to contort with loathing in its most concentrated form.

Joy saw the bitterness in him and did her best to brighten him up with jokes, the finest privateroom in the control centre and making not one but two of the personality islands entirely his to do with as he wished and even giving him one on one therapy sessions with any free time she had. It only caused sadness to hate her even more. Sadness hated the other emotions almost as much as he hated joy. Though they did their absolute best to involve him in their fun and games, he only intensified his hatred for them as time went by since it was clear that their loyalty lay with joy and their human host.

And speaking of the human host, Sadness's hatred towards the boy could not be described by words. A library of books would not have been enough to convey just how much sadness wished one day to see the little boy stand at the top of the tallest building in the world and to jump down. To witness the little boy's shouts of grief as the little boy took a fully loaded revolver and put the barrel to his head before clicking the trigger six times in quick succession to ensure that there was no chance of survival whatsoever. The more traditional method which involved a rope tied into the noose, a stool and then a dramatic jump would also be acceptable for sadness if not as good as the other two. Sadness had vowed that if it was the last thing he or any of the emotions saw, it would be that of their host choosing to sacrifice their life rather than live if joy had a problem with that, then so much the better since seeing that smirk wiped from her face and hearing her cry as together they watched their host lose the will to live would make the show all the more

exciting.

Day and night, sadness thought only about how to change the mind world so that his host would never smile again. How he could turn mindtopia, into sadtopia. But all the emotions loved joy and joy was the leader of the mind. And as long as joy took the reins in dictating the host's emotions, the host would never have any thoughts of the noose or the stool in the attic. The host would back away from the edge of the building instead of stepping off of it.

"This has to stop now" sadness thought to himself grinning creepily as he rubbed his hands together. "No more joy. Nyet more."

No one knew what really happened after that. Suffice to say that the next morning, Joy woke up with hands tied behind back and in total darkness. As her vision began to clear, she began to see that around her were a bunch of dim glass balls. Joy's confusion soon became fear when she realized that these were no ordinairy glass balls but discarded memories which had been tossed into the pit of forgetfulness. Her fear was only cemented when she heard the sound of evil laughter coming from a place far up above. And peering upwards, the first teardrops fell from her eyes as she saw sadness looking down at her from a ledge doubled over as he rejoiced with laugh after laugh what he had just done to joy.

Riley's sadness, a reasonable and friendly empath who played an important part in maintaining a healthy and balanced life. This sadness, a sadomasochist who would drag the mind into ruin no matter what it took. He laughed and laughed as Joy cried and begged for mercy.

"Now, there will be nyet more joy in this boy. Now, mindtopia will become sadtopia" sadness boasted as he waved a happy goodbye to joy."Dasvidania, babooshka. Nyet more happiness" And he took his ushanka off and held it out in an exaggerated gesture before carefully replacing it as he turned away to head back to the headquarters, still laughing.

Even as joy continued to fix her gaze upwards in the misguided hope that sadness or Dimitri as she preferred to call him would come back to find her, she knew that nothing in the boy's life could ever be the same now that the wicked emotion had shown his true colours and dethroned her from her office. As much as Joy disliked what "Sadness" (Dimitri) had just done to her, she pitied him deeply and beganto place her hands together in deep prayer. A prayer for his salvation and his return to sanity when perhaps he one day saw the dangers of what he was about to do. And another prayer for the boy not to be too sad and to find happiness without her.

And as the last of her strength left her and she collapsed back onto the pile of forgotten memory balls that would be her bed for the concievable future, Adyson Reena Davis "Joy" cried so hard that her eyes begun to bleed and her expensive outfit became a damp and uncomfortable rag.

Meanwhile in the mind headquarters Sadness was having the time of his life as he began giving order after order to the remaining emotions who despite not being the happiest they could be were following the orders to the letter. Sadness had promised them inconcievable riches if they simply aided him in overthrowing joy and being the cunning psycopath he was they had believed every one of his words. He had run a smear campaign that painted joy as the real villain behind everything bad that happened to their host and insisted that with joy gone that the host and by extension they, would be so much better off. No one questioned sadness's orders as Fear, Disgust and Anger cranked each one of their emotion dials not just to level ten but to eleven.

A level reserved for only the most extreme emergencies and one that even Joy usually did not use.

And as Sadness let out one final guffaw as he joined his new subordinates in cranking his personal dial to the maximum, the young boy outside the mind world begun to cry and wail as he stamped his foot while flailing his arms like a madman.

The boy knew something was wrong with himself and that there was no solution. No doctor with his vast cupboard of antidepressants, no mind mentor with their vast bookshelf of self published self help books, no psychologist with their huge encyclopedia of "A to Z Techniques for control over depression and regaining composure" could be of any help to the now broken boy as his heart rate jumped to a speed that made him clutch his chest howling in great pain. His blood boiled to a degree that made him feel like he was burning alive from the inside out. His airways tightened and he felt as if a boa constrictor was squeezing him to death. He must have cried enough to fill the world's oceans by now he thought, as he battled to no avail to regain control of his emotions which had become his worst antagonists in the span of just one night.

Being an avid lover of cartoons for the little comfort they were able to provide for him in his times of sorrow, he knew that somewhere in the world there was a girl whose emotions treated her with the greatest respect and who would keep her safe no matter the danger or hardship she was bound to come into.

And he knew he was not that girl.


	3. Fear of Failure

...Fear of Failure...

It was hours later when Adyson Reena Davis "Joy" was finally making the final steps out of the pit of forgetfulness. It had taken her a great deal of effort to find an area in the rock where there were good enough handholds and footholds for her to get a grip and begin her ascent upwards. Never mind she had first had to find a sharp point in the rocks where she could break free from the rope that sadness had used to tie her hands. Her pale blue Kimono which represented her host's love for a certain culture very few people could make a guess at was dusty and wet from all the climbing and crying she had been doing. Her beautiful white blonde hair was practically drenched from sweat.

But this was it, this was the final step she needed to finally get out of the pit. She was going to waste no time in righting the wrongs that a certain liar had no doubt already begun indulging in. Her smile was finally starting to come back as she begun to take the final step up with an incredible display of willpower and pain. Climbing was never her strong suit, or her kimono in her case. And at that moment the first drops of rain begun to fall. Drops that soon became floods. And the incredible hydraulic power hit her hard in the face causing her already failing grip to loosen. All the happiness in her emotion was converted to indescribable misery as she fell, shouting a curse word that she knew she'd spend her life regretting however long that was. Yet even as she fell she heard a whistle and the sound of metal cracking above her followed by the sight of a huge train almost slamming into her as it joined her in falling back into the dark abyss below.

The train of thought had gone off its rails. And the boy's tears had become so serious they had begun to infect his mind.

"Sadness, you baka." Joy shouted angrily as she fell back onto the pile of forgotten memories she falsely thought would be now but a forgotten memory. "You selfish baka. You. What you're doing is not Kawaii. Not Kawaii at all." Like the other aspects of Joy, her linguistic choices sought to emulate as best as possible her host's fierce devotion to a certain country he longed to be a part off with every ounce of his being. Very few people could guess which country the boy was referring to even when the boy gave clues that the country contained delicious delicacies known as "Sushi" and "Ramen".

In the outside world, the boy was hammering his clenched fist onto a stone table with every smash threatening to break the stone with how his fists seemed to harden by the second along with his uncontrollable grief which had swiped any hope he had of recovering his temper away. He needed forty percent to pass and only got thirty nine point nine. Only Thirty nine point nine.

A few days ago he had seen in a vision that one of his worst fears was about to come true whether he liked it or not. The fear that involved no one loving him as he was a fear he realized full well that another girl in a certain cartoon had gone through upon her move into San Fransisco and for a brief moment he thought maybe he should simply calm the heck down.

Three problems prevented such a simple solution.

One, the people Riley feared wouldn't love her were kind and generous school children her age while the boy instead feared strict University board members who couldn't love him as it stood even if they wanted to.

Two, Riley's Parents were very forgiving and open minded evangelists who were very good at controlling their feelings for the sake of those they loved and valued. Draw a picture of a tiny Clownfish being chased by a gigantic shark with razor sharp teeth at least forty times its size and you'd have a picture perfect description of the boy and his family during situations such as the one he now helplessly found himself in. It didn't take a genius to figure out who the shark represented and who the Clownfish represented.

And three, Riley was a cartoon. A children's cartoon at that. And as much as the boy liked to think it was, his world was not a cartoon.

Thirty nine point nine. His new least favorite number. His favorite was forty.

The boy knew that getting upset solved nothing. He had read that keeping calm was the best way to solve any problem as well as increasing longevity and health in the long run, both vital attributes if he were to avoid another fear that he could not overcome. He knew that lack of calmness could only make his problems worse and increase the amount of anger he already had coming for him. He also knew that it was selfish to get angry and counter productive to not take deep breaths to quickly reduce the stress building in his incredibly shaken up body which was twitching uncontrollably.

But with how great his fear had already been in the past days and how the laptop in front of him seemed to be mocking him with his least favourite number of thirty nine point nine, this straw had broken the camel's back.

Smoke billowed from his ears as if he was a steam engine and his face turned as red as a tomato. His fist punched and punched on the hard stone table his blows becoming more violent each time. One punch eventually caused the toughened granite to shatter and the table quickly broke in half causing the laptop to fall with a hard bang to the ground.

This did not damage the laptop much however and it was as if the boy's beloved machine which he always relied on to bring him relief in his hardest times had gained an evil mind of its own as the boy's most despised number of thirty nine point nine continued to flash on its undamaged screen.

And as the boy begun to curse himself and the world around him even as he prayed for mercy and respite, "Fear" jumped and whooped as confetti descended onto the mind headquarters floor and he blew a giant white and red noisemaker as loudly as he could. Loud music was playing on a nearby speaker as the other emotions even Sadness danced in a circle around Fear who smiled the strongest of them all. They picked Fear also known as Peter Alexi Burg or just Peter Burg up, and tossed him high up into the sky. These may have been negative emotions but they sure knew how to express their gratitude when one among them threw a sick enough party. Big banners all with the word "Fear is rad" had been put all around the room and scary paintings of ghosts, skeletons and all other manner of things sure to make anyone jump with fright had been plastered to the walls in celebration of the first party where Joy was not invited.

It was bright daylight and the sun shone brightly through the boy's window. That did not stop the dream workers from quickly placing picture after picture into the background as several dream workers gesticulated wildly on stage. The boy was daydreaming after wearing himself out from his useless tantrum and as per Fear's orders, this was going to be one performance from dreamstudios. One that the poor boy would never forget.

The boy was now stretched back in his seat which he had somehow not broken. Even the sleep his exhuastion had mercifully allowed him to enter offered him no mercy however as his head twitched back and forth and tears continued to flood from his closed and bloodshot eyes despite his less than fully awake state.

His beautiful mother stood in front of the boy with big smile and open arms and the boy eagerly rushed towards to her, relieved after all that even in spite of his failings that he would be loved after all. But as he took the first steps "mummy" begun to grown in size and her mouth opened to reveal razor fangs which were sharper than the sharpest blade.

And even as the boy upon realising this terrifying change in his usually adorable mother turned to try and run, her arms quickly grew longer and wrapped him tightly in an embrace that got tighter as her crazed grin got only sharper and sharper as the boy's life force was squeezed from him slowly and painfully. As the last of the boy's vision dimmed and he tried to beg for mercy the huge mummy monster who had grown to ten times her normal size, opened her mouth wide and in one smooth motion,threw the boy who was once her beloved son into it.

The boy somehow regained his voice and screamed as he slid across a moist and slimy tongue. Warm and thick liquid he could only guess was saliva was splashed across the boy's face and body coating him completely so that he couldn't even keep his eyes or mouth open without immense discomfort. Those however were moments of great bliss compared to the travesty to follow. What followed involved a long and steep fall down the disgusting passageway known only as a throat and a one way ticket into the plunge pool filled with burning acid instead of water known only as a stomach.

The last words he heard as he felt the acid beginning to eat away at his skin were the words he hoped never to hear from a person he had trusted never to say them. "I don't love you my son. I don't love you."

It was those words that hurt several times harder than the indescribably agonising sensation of one's

innards being dissolved by powerful gastric acid.


End file.
